Of Raindrops
by Sylverlin
Summary: A series of short fics about one coincidence and the fallout. Slightly post-RoTS.
1. Of Raindrops

She exits the ship and gives her new refuge a nervous look. Why does it have to be so… _damp_?

The Togruta takes a few tentative steps on the mossy landing pad, not quite believing it won't fall apart. Then she notices the other one.

The other one is sitting on the railing and smirks. "You know, this was _my_ foxhole."

Ahsoka is more annoyed than surprised, so she smirks back and rolls her eyes, ever the one for one-upmanship. "Of all the people…"

"Same here. I suppose I'll… see you around."

The other one skids off her perch and starts walking away. Against all odds, Ahsoka doesn't exactly want her to go, so she does what she's good at and shouts.

"How do you deal with the drizzle?"

"You melt or get used to it," Assajj Ventress shouts back over her shoulder.


	2. More than you'd like

The next time they ran into each other, it was still raining.

"I guess you heard about it," Ahsoka says, gripping her cup of the bitter local tea just a bit harder than to restore blood flow in her cold hands.

The former not-quite-Sith sips her own batch of the brew, enjoying the warmth considerably more than the taste.

"I did. The official version was… oddly entertaining. Seems I was right the whole time."

Ahsoka's pupils narrow.

"Don't get upset, sweetie. I know the feeling," the older woman glares right back and Ahsoka realizes they may have something in common, after all.


	3. Too bitter

"So." Ventress coughs. "Who made it?"

Ahsoka doesn't answer and her throat is constricted by more than the tart liquid as she sees the splintered bones strewn across the marble, all those lightless eyes that looked _right past her,_ and the terrible, terrible emptiness pulses with pain again and she wants to hit the bald hag right between her eyes for making her remember-

But she tells herself she is still, maybe, a Jedi, so she gulps and the blunt stone goes back down, and looking away, she can mutter that not many survived and hope the other one doesn't notice the tear she suppressed.


	4. Blank

That evening, as the two women went their separate ways again, the rain stopped.

_Finally_, thought Ahsoka, gazing out of the window of her rented room, head rested in her palms, and that was all she thought, because thinking was _hard_.

After some time she went over to her bed and looked at it for several minutes, not sure what to do. Then she remembered to take off her boots and lie down.

The silence the rain left behind was hollow and she told it to go away, but it just suffocated her into sleep.


	5. That evening, red

That evening, as the two women went their separate ways again, the rain stopped.

Assajj noticed the silence. It was strange and somewhat disconcerting, but she just sighed, rolled over and tried to go to sleep again.

After an hour or so spent staring into the wall and mentally coercing the soothing drumming to come back, she gave up and went for a walk.

The town felt… wrong. The air was fresh and cold after the rain, puddles sparkled, there was none of the omnipresent wetness creeping down her spine. And something was horribly, horribly wrong.

Battling her better judgment, Assajj reached to the Force-

-and snapped back as fast as she could, because what lashed out at her was an _avalanche_ of pain.

_Okay. Still bad, getting worse._

Almost as an afterthought, a slight echo rippled across the fading pool of blood the unifying principle of the Universe had somehow become, and its familiarity froze Assajj in her tracks.

Behind the haze, there was a whisper.

_-help-_


	6. Of loss and being lost

So what do you do now, Ventress, you failure at becoming a Jedi and then a failure at Sith-hood?

Who are you, anyway? Have you changed? Have you actually accepted the miracle of cosmic forgiveness? Or, when its blinding light pierced your bleeding heart, did you close your eyes and run?

(have you indeed..?)

(_I did what I had to do to save my life_)

(some did what they had to do and died)

(_no one would've trusted me!_)

And then she has to close her eyes as the face floats up through the flotsam, from the pools where rusting carcasses of memories decay, carefully sequestered from awareness, and the knowing look makes _that_ lie blatantly obvious and laughable and it is just too painful to remember and _I can't, not yet, please go away!_

So the holy face darkens once again and Assajj shivers, wondering how long till she breaks. _A__nd who is left to mend you then, lost woman?_


	7. That evening, red II

_-help-_, echoed.

Who are you, Assajj Ventress?

Who do you _want_ to be?

.

.

.

She grits her teeth and doesn't close her eyes, because that would be too melodramatic, and pushes the buildup of emotion aside like a Jedi _ah, the irony_ and lunges through the bloodstained knives in the Force.

As the screaming red flashed past, in the corner of her mind's eye, she thought she could see _him_ smiling.


	8. Private hells

_no no no I don't want to go_ run, little insect, run _I have to get away please get me away someone anyone please-_

-eyes snap open, breathing is heavy, sweat tingles along a path across the temples that glitters in the cold…

Ahsoka is lying on her back, forcing her eyes as wide as possible, and she tries hard to see just the ceiling (_all the empty eyes!_)and she hates the whole universe, how the light paints pale squares on the wall, (_how could you have been so deaf!_).

And what makes Ahsoka tremble most is that while it's not like the Jedi, she loves the mute tears that soak into her pillow, because they are from inside the hollow and _anything_ is better than the spans of being left so terribly _blank_…

The rain started again.


End file.
